


Repocalypse: Wayward Kids

by b_s_s_rr_s



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, JUST, Jack Kline and Claire Novak are Siblings, Multi, Not Beta Read, Season/Series 04, Season/Series 13 Spoilers, Secret Identity, Slow Burn, Time Travel, its a monster hunting show, ooo its a tag, things get stabbed, very very very slow, what else are you expecting really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26115877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b_s_s_rr_s/pseuds/b_s_s_rr_s
Summary: After leaving the Bunker behind, Jack Kline runs into an unlikely ally: Claire Novak, sword-wielding hunter with a strange connection to the Winchesters. One thing leads to another, and in true Winchester fashion, they decide to travel back in time and prevent the (very first) Apocalypse.What could go wrong?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	1. I

Jack knew there was a word for this sort of situation; it was really a shame he couldn’t ask Sam or Cas what it was. Maybe even Dean would know, and as nervous as Jack felt around him, he would really appreciate having at least one of them there with him. 

Teleporting out of the bunker without a real plan wasn’t his brightest idea, but Jack had been so torn up over actually killing someone that the need to get out was greater than any sense of reasoning. Not that he had much, he was still very little, but the person whose car he had crushed didn’t seem very impressed with this explanation.

Luckily, she had been standing nearby when he had landed on the roof. Unluckily, she had been standing nearby with a gun, handcuffs, and flask of holy water, which she’d splashed in his face shortly after handcuffing him to the wreckage of her car. Running from one group of hunters only to be caught by another was...something. 

“Irony?” His captor seemed irritated that she’d even offered, but Jack brightened. 

“Yes, that sounds correct! Irony…” Jack smiled, considering the new word as the hunter squatted in front of him, eyes level with his. 

“Who even are you? Not a demon or monster as far as I can tell, but no human could survive that…” She trailed off, glancing at her car. Jack shrugged, wondering if this hunter was a friend of Sam or Dean’s. 

“My name is Jack Kline, I’m a nephilim.” That didn’t seem to help, since the hunter reared back almost immediately. 

“Shit, I left the holy oil…” She cursed, and Jack wondered if now was the time to tell her that didn’t really work on him. 

“What’s your name?” And she was scowling again. 

“Claire Novak. Who’s...who’re your parents? Where’d you come from?” She asked, brandishing a long blade that she hadn’t had before. Jack wondered why that name sounded familiar.

“My father is…Castiel. And Sam and Dean.” Jack adds, feeling worse for leaving them off. He wan’t good yet, but...hopefully they still wanted him. 

Claire’s face flashed through anger and disgust and settled on confusion, though Jack wasn’t sure why. 

“How does that...nevermind. You’re Cas’ kid?” She looked him over, a different light in her eyes that Jack couldn’t place. 

“Well, really my father is Lucifer, but Castiel is my family.” Jack replied firmly, debating whether to move his hands yet. The handcuffs hadn’t worked at all, and his arms were hurting being in that position. 

“Wait wait, you’re  _ Lucifer’s  _ kid? Like, the spawn of the devil?” Claire was aghast, and Jack noticed how she gripped her blade tighter. Perhaps he could stand to keep his hands where they were; he didn’t want to fight this Claire Novak.

“Yes, but I’m not him. I’m trying to be good.” Jack looked away, unable to stand Claire’s doubtful look. Almost unwillingly, he told her about the man he had killed, the last few weeks coming out in a rush of words that Jack didn’t know how to stop. 

Claire had sat down at some point, and was holding her head in her hands as she stared at him. 

“So you’re like, a literal baby, and you brought Cas back to life and became a Winchester and now you’re what, doing some teenage rebellion thing?” Claire gestured to all of him, which wasn’t helpful, but Jack thought he knew what she meant. 

“I’m trying to be good. If I can...save Mary Winchester, maybe…” Jack bit his lip, still not clear on his plan. He had the vaguest idea that if he could bring back Mary, maybe he could prove he was good after all. 

“Hang on, you’re basically like, all powerful though. I mean, you brought an angel back to life, that’s gotta be something.” Jack bristled, not wanting to think about all the hours spent trying to move a damn spoon. 

“Yes but I can’t–”

“No, no, shut up, hang on.” Claire held up a hand and Jack’s jaw snapped shut, feeling strangely like Sam whenever Dean spoke. 

“Listen, you’re already planning on trying to get to some...alternate universe or whatever, right? But what if…” Claire hesitated, looking away before turning to face Jack again, gaze intense, “What if you could prevent  _ all  _ of this?” 

“What do you mean?” Jack frowned, leaning back as Claire went to her knees, grabbing Jack by the shoulders. 

“I’m talking time-travel, Jack. You and me, we could go back in time and fix everything. The dude you killed, this whole demons mess, your mom...my dad.” Claire broke off, sitting back on her heels. Her lips pursed in a tight line, and Jack could see a stiffness to her face that meant she was holding back tears. 

“Your dad?” Jack knew something about that, at least, and the thought of his mom was more than enough to get his attention. 

“Jimmy Novak. You might know him better as Cas’ meat suit.” And then it clicked, why Claire’s eyes had caught so much of his attention. He’d seen them in another face, one that loved him, and apparently loved Claire too. 

“Don’t get me wrong, me and Cas, we’ve...come to an understanding. But if you can bring Cas back to the same body, then...maybe he doesn’t  _ need  _ my dad.” Claire’s eyes were damp but determined, and Jack rolled his shoulders as he started to consider it. Maybe that was the better idea, after all. 

“But Mary wouldn’t be alive.” Jack began, pouting when Claire rolled her eyes. 

“How much effort can it be to get like, one human soul. Sam and Dean have done it like, a thousand times already.” Claire reached into her pockets, ignoring Jack while she searched for something. Tilting his head, Jack pulled his hands into his lap, giving up on the illusion of handcuffs to rub his wrists. 

“I believe that’s because my grandfather favors them.” Jack was very proud of this theory, actually, having come up with it by himself. Claire fished out a key victoriously, only to slump and glare at the sight of Jack’s hands, unbound. Sheepishly, he offered her the cuffs, waiting quietly as she snatched them back and put them away. 

“Your grandfather, like, God?” Claire seems a little off-kilter, and Jack is about to offer some words of encouragement when she outright covered his mouth with her hand. 

“No, nevermind. Look, God’s, uh, He’s clearly not paying all that much attention if you’re running around like this, right? Like if this works, it’s because He would want it to, right?” Claire reasoned, waiting until Jack nodded to remove her hand. 

“I suppose that makes sense...I guess we should try it?” Jack stood, ready to concentrate, when Claire jumped up, both hands going to his shoulders. 

“Nuh-uh, I was a little kid when all that stuff happened, if we went back now we’d barely know what was happening. We need to plan this out, be ready.” Jack nodded, turning around as Claire sighed in relief. If he was going to try something like time-travel, then he better start small. 

“Wha–” Jack tuned Claire out as he raised one hand, concentrating. His powers had never quite worked on command, and only in his own interest, so Jack focused intently on the car, trying to channel the idea that he was absolutely trapped without it. His eyes squeezed shut as he felt a spark of some sort, the hint of something flicker before fading. 

Convinced he’d failed, Jack dropped his hand, not opening his eyes until Claire gasped. Blinking, Jack came face to face with the car, returned to its former state. Claire was circling it, inspecting every side before coming to stand next to Jack, crossing her arms. 

“Damn, good work.” She punched his arm, and Jack nearly fell over, not expecting it. Claire laughed, though not meanly, and it actually felt kind of friendly. Claire had pulled the driver’s door open and was half in the seat, doing something by the wheel. 

The engine roared to life, and Claire whistled, leaning out to look at Jack. 

“Full tank of gas too, shit. This might actually work out. Get in, it’s dinnertime.” Claire shut her door and waved Jack to the other side of the car. Jack got in, marveling at the interior that was so unlike the Impala. Food wrappers and empty bottles rolled along the floor, bumping into knives and discarded clothes, all covered in some sort of fluid. 

“Sorry, haven’t visited a laundromat in a while. Got a motel room though, so I guess that’s our first stop.” Claire told him, moving some of the clothes to the backseat, which looked equally cluttered and deadly. Jack nodded slowly, watching Claire as she drove them out of the forest.

“Claire, are we siblings?” If Jimmy was her father, and Jimmy was sort of Cas, who was sort of Jack’s father, then Claire was at least sort of his sister. She looked over, raising one eyebrow before sighing and shaking her head. 

“Sure kid, I’ll be your sister.” She reached out and ruffled his hair. Jack froze for a second before ducking away, already reaching up to fix it. 

“I take it back, I don’t want you to.” Jack announced, trying to catch his reflection in the window; he liked his hair, Cas had it the same way. Next to him, Claire laughed again, but it was quieter, brittle. 

“Too late, we’re stuck together.” She met Jack’s eyes before looking away. 

“My name is Kline and yours is Novak, siblings share a name, like Sam and Dean..” Jack told her, more confused when she laughed again, but happier that this one seemed genuine. 

“Yeah? Let’s just steal theirs. Only Winchesters would try to do something this stupid.” Jack bit his lip, trying to defend the brothers and coming up blank. Claire kept laughing, and Jack decided he liked her better laughing.

Sam and Dean were too serious; if they were to be Winchesters and save the world, they’d be the happy ones. And maybe, just maybe, Jack could prove he was good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was recently thinking about how wild writing time travel for Supernatural would be just in like, any season after 5 basically. So obviously I had to give it a shot.
> 
> I always thought the way Jack was handled on the show was, bad. Poor kid's supposed to be stronger than Chuck and now he's.....??? Who knows. The show has a habit of making up interesting premises for characters and then forgetting about it like, two episodes later. Like, sure they had to nerf Jack, but consider, he's just a babey.
> 
> That, and I always found it a pity they never brought back characters like Claire until so far in. So naturally, Jack's underutilized powers combined with Claire's entire character equaled epic time travel adventure. 
> 
> Half excuse to dig deeply into the show's origins as the finale approaches, and half self-indulgent crap, here is, a story.


	2. II

Claire watched in amazement as Jack scarfed down his fifth hamburger, sparing a thought for her wallet as he looked up expectantly. Claire was only halfway through her second, but had lost her appetite and pushed it towards him, sipping her coffee as he consumed it in three bites. 

“Hey, if you’re only a few weeks old should you really be eating solids?” Claire meant for it to be teasing, but Jack seemed to consider her question seriously, fixing his eyes on the few fries left untouched on his plate. 

“I’m kidding, you’re...well you look old enough, anyways.” Claire poked at her own fries, dumping ketchup on them before munching away. Jack shrugged, eating his own. 

“Actually, we do need to pick an age for you. I’m clearly the oldest sibling, so you can’t be more than twenty.” Claire tapped her chin speculatively, debating whether one or two years was a better age gap. 

“I’ve passed off as much older before.” Jack informed her smugly, drinking from his own cup of soda, which had been a truly entertaining experience. Claire had never had to explain to someone that soda was not, in fact, alive, but wow did she wish she’d at least recorded it. 

“Yeah but we’re gonna have fake IDs anyways. We just need something to convince Sam and Dean.” They hadn’t talked about their plan more, too occupied with getting food, but it was still at the forefront of Claire’s mind. She could get her dad back, make sure she never became a hunter, and prevent a whole lot of crap while she was at it. 

“You know...if we go back, there’s no guarantee we could return. And even if we did, you as you know it may cease to exist.” Jack started, unsure of where he was going. Claire couldn’t blame him, time travel was bonkers even for her, and she was fully grown. 

“As long as some version of my dad gets to live with his family, I’ll be fine. Plus, we’re saving your mom too, so that means you might not...get born?” Claire frowned, making a note to stock up on painkillers; they would need it. 

“My mother loved me enough to give birth even if it meant she died. I’m fine with doing the same.” Jack was earnest, too much so for someone admitting he was willing to die. Even so...

“Yeah, I guess I can’t argue with you there. I was almost Cas’ vessel, you know. My dad’s the reason why I’m not, and even if I didn’t get it back then…” Claire trailed off, not wanting to think about the years she had spent angry and furious at the world. 

“We’ll fix this, don’t worry sis.” Jack replied confidently, face falling as Claire snorted out her coffee.

“Oh my god, where did you learn that? Nobody actually says that, Jack, c’mon–” Claire giggled, trying to dab coffee off her face while laughing and failing overall. When she finally collected herself, one look at Jack’s frowny confused face set her off all over again.

“But on the television, this is customary.” Jack explained, and Claire bit her lip, actually holding her sides as she shook. 

“Yeah, well, welcome to the real world Pinocchio.” Claire held up what was left of her coffee, rolling her eyes as she forced Jack to toast his cup against hers. She passed him the rest of her food and stood to take the trash, not surprised when Jack followed a second later, fries already gone. 

They drove to the motel in silence, and Claire passed him her room key as she stopped by the front desk to get more shitty motel coffee. If she batted her lashes a little she could get some of the better quality, though that wasn’t saying much. 

After schmoozing the tired looking employee, Claire headed to her room, knocking on the door only once before it swung open. Rolling her eyes, Claire shouldered past, dumping the coffee before pulling her knife and flask, brandishing both at Jack. 

“Did those idiots teach you anything? You didn’t even ask who was at the door, it could’ve been some demon after you.” Claire admonished, splashing her arm with the water before drawing the blade across her skin. Jack’s eyes widened and he grabbed over the cut, a light glowing quickly before Claire could protest. 

“I knew it was you, I could sense it. Besides, I can take care of myself.” Jack replied, looking from Claire’s healed arm to her face. She sighed and spared a thought for Dean, Jody, really any adult that dealt with her during this phase of her learning to be a hunter. Somehow, she had the feeling that a super-powered nephilim wouldn’t be much easier than she was. 

“Yes, but it’s not just you, is it? My stuff is here too, what if I came back while you were fighting? I could’ve been grabbed as a distraction, or gotten hurt in the middle of it. I know you healed me now, but you might not always be able to. Most hunters can’t rely on something like that, so you can’t learn to either.” Claire felt bad as Jack wilted, biting her lips as she set up the coffee, going through her pack and spreading its contents over her bed. 

“Look, remind me tomorrow and I’ll teach you the secret knock, alright?” She offered, and Jack perked up. She could practically see the tail wagging behind him. 

“Anyways, we need to put together some kinda...timeline, so we know what events to expect.” Claire fished out a notebook from the mess, opening to a blank page and scrawling the word “plan” at the top. She looked up at Jack, who simply blinked back.

“Right, you’re a newborn. And I kinda remember but...not a lot. Some stuff, at least. If only we could ask…” 

“No!” Jack jumped in frantically, and Claire leaned back as he toppled onto her bed, crushing the papers and various granola there. She’d be more upset if she wasn’t sure they were all mostly expired. 

“Get off that, you’re the worst.” Claire gave him a halfhearted shove, dropping the notebook in front of her as she went to pour herself a cup of coffee. 

“Hey do you need to sleep or what?” She asked, debating if coffee was the best idea for a baby nephilim. Jack frowned, lips turning pouty as he thought about her question. He did that a lot, and Claire was definitely going to tease him about it at a later date. Maybe this little sibling thing wasn’t so bad. 

“Not as much as humans, but a little. Some hours, at least.” He replied, glancing over at his empty twin bed. Claire nodded, sitting down against the headboard and picking up the notebook. 

“I just wish we could talk to someone who was there. Even Jody doesn’t know everything, and Singer’s place is gone..” Claire trailed off before sitting up abruptly, startling Jack, who was reaching for her cup.

“Touch my coffee and you die.” She warned him, taking a pointed sip before looking for a pen. 

“We need to talk to Bobby Singer.” Claire spoke each word carefully as she wrote the name down, the very first bullet point on their list.

“Who’s Bobby Singer?” Jack asked, confused. 

“This old hunter, he and Jody used to date or something. He was close to the Winchesters, if anyone would know what they were up against it would be him.” Claire set the notebook back down, staring at the page. 

“Where is he?” 

“....dead.” Claire cursed, flopping back against the bed. Jack shifted until they were shoulder to shoulder, picking up the notebook himself.

“Well, we could try to summon him.” Jack offered, and even as Claire shook her head she stopped, staring at him. 

“Actually, yeah. Summoning would probably drag something bad along, but a seance, that could work.” She quickly added that in parenthesis, scowling as she was once again stumped. 

“Well, we have to find a psychic.” Jack took the pen, adding the second point with a steady hand. Claire nodded, trying her hardest not to yell. 

“Nobody said time travel would be easy. How about you tell me about Jimmy Novak?” Jack offered, tipping his head to the side. Sighing, Claire shoved the papers back into her bag, kicking off her shoes as she cleared the bed, settling down onto the pillow and patting next to her. 

Jack slowly laid down next to her, hands laced awkwardly over his stomach. 

“I...I remember when Cas came, first. My dad just...left us, and I didn’t know why,” Claire began, slowly walking through those few months without her father up until the day he came back and her mother became a demon. How she had agreed to let Cas in, and how Jimmy had offered himself up for good. 

“A lot of this is just, you know, hindsight and crap, but...he was a good dad.” Claire finished lamely, feeling too many emotions swelling at once. Jack grabbed he hand hesitantly, giving it a squeeze as Claire looked at him. 

“We’ll save him, don’t worry.” He told her sincerely, and Claire gave a watery laugh. 

“You say that, but if we go back too far then we don’t get Cas. I don’t think Sam or Dean could survive without him, honestly.” Claire squeezed Jack’s hand tightly, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that they could still fail after all. 

“I...I’ve only ever seen Cas as he is now, in this ves– In Jimmy. If I could meet them when they’re together, then maybe… I could pull one out of the other? Manifesting them might be hard but...like you said. Compared to traveling back, I’m sure this’ll be a piece of pie.” Jack nodded against the pillow, smiling turned questioning as Claire snickered. 

“Piece of cake, Jack, the expression is piece of cake.” She told him, sitting upright and letting go of his hand. He popped up as well, not blinking as he watched her. 

“I’m not sleeping any time soon, so I’ll get started on looking for a psychic. You uh...can you read Enochian at all? Jody’s always on me about learning some basic warding stuff but anything past Devil’s Traps is just...too annoying. But who knows who’s after us, better safe than sorry.” Claire tossed Jack a smaller notebook covered in Jody’s neat handwriting, apparently copied directly from Bobby Singer’s notes. 

Jack nodded, already focused intently on the notebook as Claire started up her laptop, settling in. 

– 

When Claire woke up the next day, Jack had painted various Enochian along the walls using her lipstick, and Claire revised her opinion on siblings entirely. 


	3. III

Missouri Moseley the psychic had, apparently, found Claire and Jack instead of the other way around. Luckily they weren’t too far from her state, even if Claire had to outrun more than a few police cars on the way.

She had explained that sometimes it was necessary but still illegal, and outright refused to teach Jack how to drive, which he felt was unfair. Though he shut up when she brought up her lipstick, which he had already apologized for and cleaned up. 

Claire didn’t seem truly angry at least, brushing the lipsticks off as cheap when Jack had handed her the empty tubes mournfully. He felt a little better about it when she threatened to kick his ass for pulling the same stunt twice, since he had heard Dean say the same thing to Sam at least five times. 

Jack was more than a little curious about the psychic, who had emailed Claire around 3am with an address and a short message. The subject line of the email was addressed to Claire and Jack by name, which was enough to send Claire into fits and sparked a thorough background check that lasted up until 6am, at which point Claire confirmed she was, at least, a real person who had supposedly gotten results. 

His new sister had declared the lady could still be a shapeshifter, ghoul, or demon, and insisted on loading up with salt and holy water before they visited. There was moment where they had tried to figure out if Jack was able to create holy water (“Try spitting in it?”), but they ended up attending a truly awkward Mass just before hitting the road. 

Now pulling up to a surprisingly nice house, Claire had strapped three knives to her person, loaded two guns with salt bullets, hidden additional ammo somewhere else, and kept her angel-blade out in the open. She insisted Jack take a knife, even when he told her he couldn’t feel any ill-intent. 

“Claire Novak and little Jack Kline. Welcome, my name is Missouri.” Jack felt warmth from psychic, who smiled at them. Claire narrowed her eyes, and Jack reached out one hand to grab her instinctively, frowning when she scowled at him. 

“It’s alright, I’m no demon but I know how these things go. Do your tests and we can get down to business.” Missouri waved them closer, though Claire insisted on tossing the holy water first. Jack felt no little amount of embarrassment as they lingered on the porch, glancing around at the neighbors as Claire tossed salt at and stabbed the nice lady who had invited them there. 

When she started mumbling the beginnings of an exorcism he lost patience, herding her inside the house and giving Missouri an apologetic look as the psychic follow them in. Claire, still scowling, insisted on salting a doorway, watching with narrowed eyes as Missouri crossed it easily. 

“Siblings, hmm? As I understand it, you two need to contact someone.” Missouri lowered herself into the grand chair on the other side of the round table, gesturing for Jack and Claire to take the other two. Two chairs for two guests. 

“Can you help us talk to Bobby Singer?” Claire asked, brusque and to the point. Missouri smiled, though Jack couldn’t help but notice the strain at the corners of her mouth. 

“Ah, an old friend indeed. I can, though I warn you he may not be the most cooperative. Hunters are funny that way.” Missouri nodded, setting her hands on the table, face down. Having never attended a seance, Jack leaned over, hoping he could ask Claire what would happen.

“Don’t worry child, all is well.” Missouri hadn’t opened her eyes, and Jack exchanged glances with Claire as they both leaned back in their chairs, waiting. 

“Ah, it seems he’s kicking up a fuss as usual. If you would, please?” Missouri opened her eyes, holding one hand out towards Jack, who took it hesitantly. Claire scowled even further, looking ready to jump the table and tackle Missouri if it became necessary. 

“Don’t worry, he’s just...hmm..refusing to speak through a mouthpiece. Your boy here can help me bring him a little closer.” Missouri spoke to Claire, though her eyes remained shut, and Jack was about to speak when he could feel the spark once more, a little fizzle that snaked along his arm and towards Missouri, whose warmth he could feel like a rush of water. Not smothering, but nurturing. 

Jack blinked, wondering when he had closed his eyes, and seated across from him at the table was the transparent form of a grizzled old man, cap perched firmly on his head. Claire turned, notebook already open. 

“Are you Bobby Singer?” 

“And who the hell are you two?” The ghost grouched, looking between Jack and Claire before giving Missouri a nod, though the psychic’s eyes remained shut. 

“It’s...kinda complicated. We have some questions.” Claire stopped as Bobby Singer snorted, fixing her with a look. 

“Complicated or not, I ain’t talking until I know exactly who you two clowns think you are.” Jack wondered just how well Sam and Dean had known this Bobby.

“My name is Jack Kline, I’m a nephilim. My fathers are Castiel, Sam, and Dean.” Jack figured he might as well get into it, since Bobby didn’t seem inclined to answer them otherwise. Claire’s kick under the table was a surprise, though as he looked from her scowling face to Bobby’s completely blank one, Jack reevaluate his position. 

“You...huh...how does that even…? No, I really don’t want to know…” Bobby squinted at Jack, though his head turned quickly when Claire smacked the table. 

“I’m Claire Novak, a hunter. I live with Jody Mills, you remember her right?” She demanded, still stiff even as Bobby’s expression softened. 

“Yeah...How’s she these days? Not too well if she’s stuck with a hunter brat like you.” Bobby retorted, crossing his arms. 

“She’s a hunter herself, actually,” Claire began snarkily, only stopping when Jack put his free hand on her shoulder. 

“Let’s try this again. Claire and I have an idea that we think might help prevent a lot of terrible things from happening, including the death of her father. But in order to do that, we need to know what happened in the past.” Jack nodded to Claire encouragingly, smiling when she harrumphed but picked up where he left off. 

“We can’t talk to either Sam or Dean about it, so I figure you’d be our best bet. If you can tell us, it’d be greatly appreciated.” Claire looked as though she’d bitten on something sour, but made it through her sentence, bristling when Bobby chuckled. 

“Yeah, I can see how you’re their….joint kid. You too, missy. Tell me what this plan of yours is and I’ll see what I can do.” Bobby stroked his beard, looking between the two. Claire nodded at Jack, and began to explain what they had planned. 

“Well damn. You can really do all that?” Bobby asked Jack, eyebrows disappearing under his cap. Jack nodded hesitantly, though straightened when Claire grabbed one of his hands. 

“We can try.” He replied firmly, and Bobby seemed to accept that, leaning forwards and taking his cap off. Jack was a little distracted by the fact that the ghost cap just up and disappeared, but Claire was already taking notes as Bobby walked them through the Winchester story up until his exorcism as a ghost.

“Though these are just bare bones. Don’t know why y’all called me up when you could just read the books.” Bobby finished, leaning back in his seat. Claire and Jack’s jaws dropped. 

“ _ Books? _ !” One very short, awkward conversation later, and Claire was already digging up online versions of the books while Jack, noticing sweat beading on Missouri’s brow, decided to try and wrap things up. 

“When do you suggest we try to aim for?” Bobby considered the question, frowning deeply. 

“Well, taking out that Azazel bastard right from the start would fix a whole lot of this mess, but I don’t think that’s what you two are aiming for.” Jack thought of Cas and agreed. 

“Hmm...well, if you two could save Adam, that’d be a big blow to those winged bastards, er, forgive my French.” Bobby muttered, drawing Claire’s attention. 

“Adam, the “poor sap they dragged up to be Michael’s condom”, or the half brother? Or wait no, they’re the same person, nevermind.” Claire muttered, waving them off. Jack couldn’t blame her, he had tuned out after Cas had raised Dean from Hell, so he wasn’t even sure who Adam was. 

“Yeah. That, or I guess if you wanna stop Soulless Sam running around...Honestly the whole thing with the leviathans is better avoided. If you two kids can keep Lucifer in his cage, well, the rest of us will be better off for it.” Bobby nodded decisively. 

“But even if these books can tell us about Sam and Dean, any change we make affects things already. We don’t really know how the demons will react, or the angels. They...don’t seem to like me much now.” Jack mused, looking contrite when Claire flashed him a scowl full of deep loathing. 

“You want  _ more  _ research?” She hissed, gesturing wildly to her covered notebook. For just the bare bones, Bobby had had a lot to say. 

“Dunno about the angels, but why don’t you just ask Crowley? Smarmy bastard was around back then.” Bobby offered, blinking when Claire and Jack turned confused looks on him. 

“Crowley? British, smug, has a face you could just punch?” He tried, scoffing when neither Jack nor Claire reacted. 

“I think Sam may have mentioned him? I’m pretty sure he’d dead.” Jack offered, drawing a surprised laugh from Bobby. 

“Well there goes that idea. The guy was Lilith’s right hand of sorts, he’d know what they were up to back then. Plus he was around for the leviathans...yeah, Crowley’s your guy. Can’t believe he’s dead…” Bobby muttered, sighing before, somehow, putting his cap back on his head. Claire was shuffling through the pages of her notebook when she looked up suddenly, glancing over at the clock. 

“Oh my god, it’s been over half an hour. Is this safe for MissourI?” Claire nodded towards the psychic, who was unmoving. Her face was drawn, though, and sweat beaded her brow. 

“Oh Missouri…” Bobby reached out a ghostly hand, resting it on the psychic’s for a moment before withdrawing, looking at the kids.

“Can’t say you’re the sanest, but that’s Winchesters for you. Good luck on this hare-brained scheme of yours. If it works, I’ll be seeing you for real.” Bobby nodded to them both and then dissipated before their eyes. 

Jack curled his fingers around Missouri's hand, relieved when the lady opened her eyes. She met his eyes, laying her other hand on his cheek. 

“You have so much to give, Jack, you have no idea. This was well out of my own abilities, I owe this to you, really. Good luck from me as well, but you need to be on your way.” Missouri stood abruptly, swaying just a little though she refused Jack’s steadying hand. 

“I have my own fate to meet, though I do hope we meet again.” Missouri hugged Jack, who returned it hesitantly. She felt as warm as ever, and smelled like a lighter mixture of the herbs Claire kept in a chest in the trunk. 

Missouri stepped back, only to snag Claire as well, whispering something in her hair before releasing her and shooing the both of them out of her house. 

Jack looked back at her closed door, feeling just a touch uneasy as Claire dragged him to the truck. 

“What did she whisper?” Jack asked, unperturbed when Claire threw him a withering look. 

“Whispering usually means private information, you know. But it was an address, this cabin that belonged to a hunter she knew. I figure we can ward it and bunk there while we read through these...books. Plus, figure out how to get in contact with this Crowley.” Claire replied, putting the car in reverse. 

“But he’s dead! Like, all the way dead.” Jack protested, pouting when Claire turned a smirk on him. 

“That literally didn’t stop you before. C’mon Jack, this’ll be fun.” Claire swung the car out of the driveway and switched gears, slamming the gas as she ruffled Jack’s hair.

This was some sort of payback for the lipstick thing, Jack was sure of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place roughly right before Missouri dies, FYI. Anyways, what's this? Coherent planning? In MY supernatural? It's more likely then you'd think....
> 
> Also fun fact, I remembered the books approximately halfway through writing this chapter, so that's fun.
> 
> Anyways a great deal of this fic was written over the course of one very strange afternoon, and upon going back to edit, I realize that I'm not really satisfied with the plot as I have it. So of course, I'm gonna rewrite all 50k ish words....
> 
> That is to say, update schedule's gonna be every 3 to 4 days, possibly more depending on where I end up going from here. 
> 
> ....questions, comments, concerns? ask away

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
